


Moonshine and Conspiracies

by idcishipit



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alcohol, Friendship, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 21:26:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6923980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idcishipit/pseuds/idcishipit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The two soldiers meet up every two weeks to talk.</p>
<p>This time, one brings something along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonshine and Conspiracies

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything recognizable and you probably don't either.
> 
> I feel like Grif and Tucker didn't really care and we're companions because they needed someone to complain to that wasn't on their team.

Lavernius Tucker trudged across the canyon at dusk. At least what they and Red team had designated as dusk since sun always bathed the canyon walls.  
  
He walked the steep slope of the canyon like he did every two weeks into the small rock tunnel. Leaning in the shadow was the large orange soldier, helmetless, drinking from a canteen.  
  
"Give me that," out of breath, Tucker grabbed the bottle and took a swing before immediately spitting it out onto Grif's legs. "What the fuck is this shit?!"  
  
Grif rolled his entire head towards Tucker, "What do you think it is?"  
  
"Fucking pisswater, dude! Where the hell is this from?" He sniffed the canteen opening before scrunching his nose and holding it at arm’s length.  
  
"It's moonshine, and I made it."  
  
"How the hell did you make moonshine? We're in a fucking box fort in the middle of god-knows-where space."  
  
"Listen. I had to do something to not do anything I was supposed to do. Even I can't take naps all the time."  
  
"Bullshit!" Tucker swore. "That's the only thing you know how to do right. Well, I guess this proves you suck at everything else. I've never had 'shine this bad, and I've had some pretty shitty kind too."  
  
He slid down the wall opposite of Grif and took another drink. It was disgusting and made him gag, but it was the first thing he had in a long time beside stale water. He looked down at the Hawaiian man and almost asked exactly how he had made it, but didn't want to find out he had some "How to Make Moonshine for Dummies" book because Grif reading would mean everything Tucker knows is wrong.  
  
The two men stared at the rock ceiling above them. They had a conversation about it once. How the canyon was too perfect to be natural, that this tunnel was pretty round, that the box was big enough to have equal sized bases. They had had a lot of conversations in this cave.  
  
"I've decided Church is a robot," He said after a few minutes of silence, still staring at the ceiling.  
  
"How the fuck did you decide that? I've seen him without his helmet and he looks pretty human to me. Give me my bottle."  
  
"He's super good at computer shit. Like, really good. Blue base has a shitty ass connection to Command and he basically just touches it and it fucking works! And he lives off like one bag of MREs per week. I've never seen him go to go shit either!"  
  
Grif stared at him for a moment and then said, "Jesus Christ, you're a light weight aren't you? If he was a real robot wouldn't he, like, you know, hit something once in a while? Calculators and shit? And give me my bottle. I want some."  
  
The bottle passed between them and then Tucker said more urgently, "Calculation, I am NOT a light weight, what is wrong with you, and I'm serious! I eat my rations, he has his bag, and you steal the rest!"  
  
"Fine. Church is a robot with shit aim. That's like the only reason you're a higher rank, then. At least he's not a nerd or he doesn't shoot you all the time."  
  
"First of all, fuck you. Second, don't talk about your husband that way. Thirdly, I'd rather know someone was going to shoot me then have Church with a gun. He could try to shoot the fucking wall and it would somehow end up my ass.  
  
"Bow chicka bow wow."  
  
"I hate you. We're not married. If he was a robot like Lopez, wouldn't he be somewhere useful? Lopez was built here, but Church was shipped in just like the rest of us. If he can touch something and it works he'd be somewhere else doing useful shit," Grif's words were beginning to slur and Tucker was having trouble keeping up.  
  
"Why the fuck are any of us here.  I don't think anyone one here knows. God probably doesn't know. I sure don't know.  Give me the bottle, it's my turn. Yes it is, you took three and I had two. You fucker. Now that's four, give me the shit. Thank you. Anyway, aren't there supposed to be aliens? 'Cause that's why I came but now I'm just shooting Reds and living with a robot. I could be a war hero by now or banging some ten back home."  
  
"You couldn't get a ten. You know it, I know it, the world knows it," Grif laughed. He laughed harder a second later, "War heroes? What is wrong with you, Tucker? We're going to die here and they won't notice until the supply boxes start stacking past the walls."  
  
They were both quiet for awhile until Tucker murmured reluctantly, "Probably."  
  
"Supply drops tomorrow," the orange soldier said, "If it's the usual I'll bring you your shampoo and civvies if you bring me the chocolate and Simmons' paper."  
  
"Uh, yeah? We called dibs before on those. What the fuck does Simmons need paper for anyway?"  
  
Grif groaned at the ceiling as if in pain, "He does math. Like trig and shit. Physics. By hand."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because he's fucking Simmons. He's kissing ass to all his high school teachers from his room on another planet. Sometimes he'll actually say 'Mrs. Erens was so right about that shortcut to multiply Velcro and height while dividing by weight!' I don't know what the fuck he's talking about. I don't know why he's here either. He's as useless here as Robot Church is. I don't know what fucking deities aligned so we're here but it's not cool."  
  
"Dude, I'm telling you I'm right but I think some of your words weren't right. I want to shove him in the microwave to see if he sparks. Fuck. The shits gone. We drank all the shit."  
  
The two soldiers stared at the canteen as Tucker tipped the bottle upside down. Two drips slid off the opening to explode into a few wet spots on the rock.  
  
"Damn," Grif said, he grabbed his helmet from next to him, "I'll leave the civvies by that rock. See you next week."  
  
Both men tried to stand up but had to push off the wall only to sway between one another and the openings of the tunnel.  
  
"How badly have you poisoned me, fatass?" Tucker exclaimed as he judged the distance between his boot and the floor beneath it, bending at the knee when he stepped too far.  
  
Grif shrugged before careening into the archway of the opening.  
  
"See you later, Tucker."  
  
"Bye, Grif."  
  
Neither man made it down the slopes without a few bruises.

 

***  


"Hey."

"Yeah?"  
  
"You ever wonder why we're here?"  
  
"It's one of life's great mysteries isn't it?"

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't done physics in three years so I made it up, and as far as I know, Velcro has not become a measurement of speed. On the Red vs Blue wikia, it says that Tucker was the highest-ranked team member before Recreation, but didn't want responsibility so he deferred to Church. And I highly doubt any of them never questioned why they were in the middle of nowhere, even though it was Simmons who showed it first in the show.


End file.
